


Poorly

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Jeeves & Wooster
Genre: Cute, Fluff, M/M, Reading Aloud, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 15:11:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 474
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18831193
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: “How do I look, old thing?”“Quite poorly, sir,” Jeeves murmured.





	Poorly

“How do I look, old thing?”

“Quite poorly, sir,” Jeeves murmured, and I looked at him through heavily lidded eyelashes, feeling dizzy and uncertain as one of his hands brushed my hair back from my face, gently soothing over the skin. His hands were blessedly cool, and I let out a low noise, wincing slightly as Jeeves let out a low clucking noise. “Are you hungry?”

“No,” I replied, exhaling through my thick, sore throat. My nose, luckily, was unblocked and unrunning, but I was beset with a sore throat and hacking cough, and I felt hot and cold in turns, sweating buckets in the bed. 

“You ought eat something before the day is out,” Jeeves said quietly, “but you needn’t eat something now. Would you like me to read to you?”

“Please,” I said. My voice was hoarse, and it sounded ugly, and I watched Jeeves reach for one of the books he’d dug out for me from the library, slowly getting onto the bed with me. He was still dressed, albeit without his shoes, and I wriggled close to him, laying my dizzy, faint-willed head on the broad barrel platter of his chest, exhaling hard. “Must I see the doctor?”

“Tomorrow,” Jeeves murmured. “I’ll call for him tomorrow if I don’t see an improvement. You haven’t a fever, but you’re warmer than I’d like, Bertram.”

“What book is it?”

“ _Treasure Island_.”

“I used to love that, when I was a little boy…”

“I thought you’d like it,” Jeeves said, and he kissed my temple, letting them brush over my skin, my damp hair. He was dashed good, when I was ill. I was a wreck when it was the other way around, ran about feeling like my head had been cut off at the root, but Jeeves, Jeeves was a  _marvel_ , was calm and slow and easy… and right now, I was rather too out of it to truly appreciate him.

“Love you, Reg,” I said hoarsely.

“Oh, Bertram,” Jeeves murmured, and he ran one of his cool, strong hands through my hair again, gently stroking it as he opened up the book with his other hand. “ _Squire Trelawney, Dr Livesy, and the rest of the gentlemen having asked me to write down the particulars about Treasure Island…”_

Truth be told, it all rather washed over my head. I knew the particulars in question, anyway, having read the book cover to cover a dozen times, but I couldn’t really keep hold of the running thread, so to speak, and instead I just listened to the pleasant baritone of Jeeves’ voice, the rumble in his chest. 

I heard one thing, though, loud and clear, as I dozed on his chest, grateful for the somnolent relief it offered. The words sort of floated down the stream of my consciousness.

“ _I love you too, Bertram.”_  


End file.
